


Identity

by ErtiaLedo



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bruce before Batman, Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Loss, Fear, Gen, Having Faith, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Identity, Loss, Loss of Faith, Loss of Parent(s), Mild Fluff, Pre-Batman - Freeform, Young Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 07:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13565307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErtiaLedo/pseuds/ErtiaLedo
Summary: After the death of his parents, Bruce suffers from a loss of identity, and turns to his faithful butler for help. Drabble.





	Identity

**Author's Note:**

> Alfred is one of my favourite _Batman_ characters. He’s that perfect balance, the person able to step back and see the whole picture, point out the things Bruce doesn’t want to hear.
> 
> This fic isn’t set during any media, but I keep hearing Michael Caine speaking Alfred’s words.

“Alfred?” The cracking voice of a boy, as fractured as his spirit and viewpoint of the world, filters into the room via the doorway. The butler turns away from the window and faces his ward – Prince of Gotham, heir to billions…and frightened soul. People often overlook that part. Money cannot heal _this_.

“Yes, Master Bruce?” The title remains. _Because I am not your father, but I will always be your guide._

Said child takes a few steps forwards, then pauses. His mouth opens and closes several times, before words emerge. “I’m not…sure.” A deep breath. “I’m not sure what to be. What I am.” There is a hard blink of the eyes, a tug of war with his emotions. He takes hold of rage. Strength bleeds into his tenor. “It’s like whatever I was _supposed_ to be was changed when my parents…died.” A mere mention still hurts. “I feel lost.”

How does one respond? Alfred thinks himself fortunate to be capable of empathy; he has seen too much of the world in his many years. It has afforded him great insight, yet at the cost of innocence. Wayne has none of that now, stripped of it at a younger age than the butler. _This soon-to-be man thinks he’s already broken. I know that’s not true. Breaking, yes, but not beyond saving._ “If I’m allowed to speak for everyone, I think we’re all lost.”

Bruce appears dejected, no opinion to offer, dissention or agreement. He doesn’t know.

“However, I wouldn’t accept that as a finality. It doesn’t mean we can’t find ourselves. I think you, or anybody, will find a path to walk if you look hard enough.”

“Any idea when or where?”

“Sorry, Master Bruce. No clue for you there.”

A corner of the boy’s lip lifts ever so slightly. _Even if he did know, he wouldn’t tell me._ Still, it’s a good enough answer to his dilemma. A purpose to keep him motivated and occupied.

And, if unable to be his old self, he will become something new.


End file.
